


Flying Blind

by jenna_thorn



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna_thorn/pseuds/jenna_thorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sensory deprivation</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying Blind

Oh no. No, no, no, this is not acceptable.

"You aren't blind." And it must have been his imagination, but Wash could see Simon's voice cut a blue green streak of color across the black. "It's a blindfold."

" _Bao se_ … Son, just because I'm not Jayne doesn't mean I won't… why am I not waving? I can feel me trying to wave, but I'm not actually feeling the wavy part of waving."

"When you wake up and realize you can't see, and you feel something across your nose, what's the first thing you do?"

And boy was he stupid, because he hadn't noticed the weight across the bridge of his nose but now it grew heavier, solider. And a little itchy. "Reach for it?"

"Mmm hmm. That's why I've immobilized you."

"I'm thinking I don't like you much right now."

"I'm thinking you might be nicer," and if Simon's voice was blue then Zoe's was warmth and strength and if he was a poet, he'd be thinking of summer days and gardens, but he wasn't and that thought could stop right there, "to the man who's saved your vision."

"Hello wife."

"Hello husband."

"I'd really like to see you right now."

"You will tomorrow and that's better than most could say."

Wasn't much he could answer to that. She laid a hand along his jaw and he swallowed. "That bad, hunh?"

"We got lucky."

"I'm in the infirmary."

"Jayne pulled you before too much damage was done and we've got a doctor on board who doesn't turn away from a minor challenge."

Wash felt the fall of her hair as she leaned over him and breathed into his neck. "Doc, you suppose I could have the use of my arms? I promise not to rub my eyes, but I've got a wife here needs a hug."

"No," Simon said, and Zoe's hair left which meant that Zoe left and Hey! No leaving of the Zoe! but Simon was still talking, "You need to heal and to sleep and I don't want you twitching in your sleep."

"I don't twitch."

Zoe's voice came from over his shoulder. "You've never slept with yourself."

"No, but I've slept with you and still with the hug-needing, doc."

"Such concern for my needs." Now she was leaning over him again, her hands on his chest, her hair against his cheek.

"Admitting I need a hug would be unmanly. Heaven forbid I be anything but stoic and terse."

"Terse?"

"Laconic?"

"Mm hmm. Keep working on it." As long as they were trading lines, he was okay; he could hear her smile and forget that he couldn't see it.

"I'll just, um ... be elsewhere, then, shall I?" Simon said and again with the Zoe hair not being there. Wash wondered how long it would take for his own hair to grow. He was finding the brush of hair more soothing than he would have expected.

"Not sure how he expects me to sleep. I just woke up. I could read myself to sleep, but oh wait, I can't see."

"Bothering you, hmm?"

"I refuse to dignify that with an answer"

"Consider it an opportunity to rest your eyes."

"My eyes don't need rest, they need..." and suddenly he remembered, like his brain chose to remind him all at once, to bludgeon him with what happened.

Wash felt the mule rock with the force of whatever they were using, looked like flame throwers spewing bile, hit like atmosphere on an off-angle entry. He skewed around to block what he could from Zoe and Mal and wound up with a face full of foul-tasting gunk. He spat what he could and squinted past the rest, wrenching the bar around to gun the mule into the bay, spilling as much speed as he could but still slamming to a stop under the stairs. He shook his head to clear it, then again trying to undo the first shake. River was on the cat walk above him, but he was looking straight up to her, which wasn't possible unless he was on his back. Which he was, with a mouthful of acid mud and he could hear Zoe but not see her.

 

And now he could feel her but still not see her, her forearm across his collarbone, holding him down to the bed. "You don't really need to do that. Simon's got it covered."

"Force of habit, sweetie. You okay?"

"Not really."

"You need to sleep."

"Like that's gonna happen."

She brushed the blanket down over his chest and the click of the door closing was drowned in the brush of her fingertips. "Windows, Zoe, we've oh! Okay! No wait, not okay. Zoe, there are windows all over this ... Oh!"

"The captain's in your seat, Jayne and Book are wrestling with the barbells, River's drugged and drooling into her pillow, and I'm betting that Kaylee can keep Simon occupied for a few minutes."

"Are you really…okay, god, you're an exhibitionist." The blanket slithered off his legs entirely.

"Just you and me. There's no one else around."

"And it's not like I can see you .. okay, can I take that back? 'Cause I just killed the mood."

And with a thought so clear he could hear it, it all became nothing, not even background noise. He could feel Zoe's hand across his chest, feel it so minutely, he could trace her fingerprints dragging across his skin, smell her, sandalwood and soap and soft musk and what he'dcome to think of as pillow scent. The slow course of Serenity's air circ became Zoe's breathing and that slowed to match the gentle stroke of her hand.

The warmth of her touch burned him, branded him, made him hers. She lit the blackness in front of his eyes like a bonfire, a backburn, a supernova. Saffron's stars were cold and distant and hell, even Inarra never turned his head.

This was why.

He only had to close his eyes to remember that.

The gentle stroke became something quicker, something stronger, a callused finger swept up the underside of his cock and warmth became fire, flaring love into lust and how the hell could he do that when he couldn't Oh, right, voluntary muscles and oh god. Who needs eyes? This was everything good, wood smoke and caramel and her thumb caught under the head and "Oh God. Oh God. Oh Zoe."

"Yeah, something like that."

"Uh, um, I mean…."

"You think you can sleep now?"

"Can I have my blanket back?"

"In a second…"

"Cold! Cold wet, oh, yeah, let's not shock Simon."

"At some point, dear, you're going to have to give him the speech, birds and bees and what married people do."

"Oh dear, let's let the children be children for a while longer. Their years of innocence are too short."

"Maybe that's what Kaylee sees in the boy." Zoe pulled the blanket up and tucked it in around his ribs and under his arms.

"I suspect she's not that perverse."

"Perverse? Our little Kaylee? Anyone who considers the smell of engine oil an aphrodisiac counts as a little …adventurous. Unlike your fragile sheltered bride, of course."

"Wife, you just …we just… in the medbay …with windows!"

"I've clearly fallen into bad company in the recent past."

"Oh my beloved…I've got a whole list of things I'd never done, never considered doing and some I'd never even heard of until I met you and now they damn near all qualify as fetishes. Including the smell of gun oil and sound of leather hitting skin and how's about we never tell Jayne that, okay?"

Zoe chuckled. She almost never laughed out loud and he needed to work on that. A goal. It was good to have goals. Right now, scratching his nose was wandering onto that list. But maybe first a nap.


End file.
